


It's a Constant

by IndulgenceCentral (Fordanoia)



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Hopeful Ending, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-27 23:02:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20768390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fordanoia/pseuds/IndulgenceCentral
Summary: Short scenes of Anxiety going through as he becomes accepted by the other sides+Thomas.Written along to the song Constants by Spectral Heart on youtube.





	It's a Constant

**Author's Note:**

> Directly inspired from the song here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w8usKSbdBCU and additionally inspired from the music video with that person's song here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlNgJRfNcmE   
(Also hey my first Sanders Sides fic, written when I was suppose to be writing something else!)

Another work day in, and another day beaten out. He was never disappointed by it though, not when reason or actual points made it clear the worry was not actually a risk. Being wrong was better than anything else. If he could have been wrong every time he would take that in a heartbeat.

But he wasn’t always wrong, and that’s why he couldn’t stop. 

Princey. He’d never look before jumping. That’s how you took a jump too big with a fall too hard to make it through to ever stand back up again.

Morality. Always seeing the best in others. It didn’t make everyone Thomas meet act their best though, and it couldn’t.

Even Logic. Only taking conclusions from definite signs. People weren’t always lucky enough to get those definite signs though.

To keep Thomas safe it took more than the courage the optimism or even the reasoning.

They were the ones that beat the odds of the situation, that found the safe way, or at least as safe as one they could get. They were the ones that figured out a path that  _ could  _ be taken.

And he was.... The other guy. 

Anxiety was the guy swooping in to bring up problem after problem after problem. (So he wasn’t the only one that saw all of them.) He was the challenge always come no matter how unwanted he was. 

It went back and forth, constantly. Sometimes he stayed through against weak arguments that didn’t change anything, and sometimes he eventually had to leave without anything left to say to triumphant smiles and the air of victory pitted against him.

It was a constant with only two endings and it never failed to start all over again soon enough. 

They were seen as the heroes saving Thomas through to love and confidence and reasonable peace.    
He wasn’t. 

And that was just how it went, and as long as Thomas was safe and okay at the end of the day then it was okay. 

  
He’d meet the dismissive nicknames and the frowns and the misunderstanding every time.

He wasn’t going to give up and go away just because he was on the other side of all of it like he was the problem. Heck, sometimes he did turn out to be the problem so he couldn’t even blame them there.

When he’s wrong they’re happy. When he’s right there’s the begrudging acceptance of the problem that can’t just go away, at least so easily. 

Except. This time. Where he’s right, but everything about how they react goes against the pattern.

Looks of realization, and instead of it immediately falling away to anger everyone starts making agreeing points.

“You were never actively searching for someone.”

“You met someone, got to know them casually, and then the feelings started there!”   
“The romance came about naturally.”

“I wasn’t... trying to  _ help _ .”

But it’s like nobody even... realizes. It’s like they’re all just there for a conversation with him staying around... as the issue is resolved. It’s... hey, it’s nice for a change. He’d take this. 

After that, he doesn’t try thinking too much on it. Except when, for some reason, it hurts again when he’s dismissed. At some point, maybe when Thomas  _ willingly  _ summoned him for the QA, maybe when-...  _ it didn’t matter _ . At some point though, sometimes he’d started feeling more part of the conversation instead of... on the other side of it. 

At some point he’d forgotten where he actually was.

He’s in the kitchen, late at night, snagging away whatever food is easiest and sees something with his- well not his name, but it’s close- in the fridge. A Tupperware container of leftovers from dinner that Patton made with a note on it with ‘Anxiety’ written in his handwriting.

And he closes the door, as though that’ll erase him having seen it because he doesn’t know what he’s feeling right now, but it’s too big and it’s too much. He doesn’t want to look at it, not outside his room like this, maybe not anywhere actually. It’s warm and... it makes his chest feel light.

Slowly, he opens the fridge door again and pulls out the Tupperware with food left for him out. He holds it for a few seconds, even checking over his shoulder to make sure nobody is there to watch him weigh a decision that he was sure the others wouldn’t even understand. Even though... he really wasn’t sure what it was he was trying to figure out exactly.

Eventually, he shuts the fridge carelessly with an elbow and heads over to the microwave with the leftovers, trying to relax. 

Maybe it was a mistake though. Because the next day, he hears a knock on his door and Patton’s voice calling for him. When he does open the door, he’s excitedly being invited for dinner. 


End file.
